Paradise
by cydonic
Summary: Quinn Fabray felt unstoppable. Faberry.
1. part one

_**when she was just a girl**_

_**she expected the world**_

_**but it flew away from her reach**_

_**so she ran away in her sleep**_

_**and dreamed of para, para, paradise**_

_**every time she closed her eyes.**_

Being Quinn Fabray was not easy.

Everyday she had to walk down the halls of McKinley High and act as if everything was normal. She would place arms akimbo and regard everyone with cool indifference. Whenever someone spoke to her, she would blink slowly, tongue darting out to whet her lips, as if there were a million things better she could be doing at that moment. She'd laugh, an airy snort, whenever Rachel stood up in Glee and started waving her arms about, discussing her latest plans to claim them the trophy at Nationals. And Quinn would lean to the side, finding Santana's ear with a dry insult. "Maybe if Finn ate _her_ this time, we'd win." Finn dripped off her tongue with almost as much venom as _her_ did.

All of these things looked to come so easy to her, because Quinn had spent enough time pretending to be something she wasn't. It was just natural now. Pink hair or blonde, Cheerio or Glee, Quinn or Lucy, she could adapt. She'd pull it off, and the other students would be none the wiser.

Brittany and Santana knew her the best out of everyone in the school, and even they didn't notice. They probably didn't even know the real Quinn, just the hard shell she'd formed for herself.

Outside of the school, there was an exception. Outside of the school there was Matthew.

Matthew was twenty-two and played in a band. Quinn had met him outside of a 7-Eleven looking for cigarettes whilst she was with the skanks. He'd given her a smirk, and pressed the change into her palm. Quinn caught her tongue between her teeth as she made a tight fist around the notes. _"No need to pay, hun."_ And any other man would have had himself destroyed by the football team by even _trying_ that term with her, but Matthew was different.

They kept in touch. He hated her blonde hair, at first. That was when she had to talk. She had to explain what it was all for.

"_That girl you met, that's me." _Quinn had said, as she began to explain the Beth saga to him. Her vital organs wanted to escape via the newly formed hole in the pit of her stomach as she spoke. Matthew was just going to up and leave her now, the pathetic teen mum that she was. But he stayed and listened, expression clouded with cigarette smoke.

It was cathartic. The smoke and the talking.

Quinn kept the tears hidden behind her glassy eyes, but wasted no time excusing herself to the bathroom after she finished speaking.

She couldn't tell whether the tears were because Matthew hadn't left, or because she'd finally been open to someone about Beth. Quinn lied so much in her life that telling the truth, for once, was a great relief.

**–––**

They started dating a few weeks after they'd met. Matthew took her everywhere, he showed interest in what she did. Whenever Glee was over, and Cheerio's practice, once she'd rejoined, he waited in the parking lot. They'd drive around, and Quinn spoke of her day, cigarette in one hand hanging out the window.

At school, Quinn Fabray smiled again.

It wasn't a kind thing, still marred with disdain - it was the most convincing smile she could make. Beneath it, though, there was happiness. For _once_, there was happiness. Quinn didn't know when she'd last been so happy - was it Finn or Puck or Sam? Or Beth? Those precious few moments she'd spent with her daughter in her arms, they _had _to be it.

But now she'd found it. She'd found someone to love her, to hold her - to keep her safe.

It was paradise.

Matthew treated Quinn like she was a queen. Most days, when she got in his car, something sat on the passenger seat. Shoes, clothes, chocolates, cigarettes. No matter what it was, there was thought there. He'd drive her just out of town and they'd spend hours in the car talking and making out, sharing smoke in the backseat.

**–––**

"Quinn!"

The blonde turned on her heel, both hands grasping the strap of her Cheerio's bag. "Berry." Her tone was sharp. "What do you want?" Matthew was waiting outside for her in the car, and she didn't want to keep him waiting. Being with him was the highlight of her day, and Rachel had the nerve to ruin that for her.

"I've noticed - well, that is to say we in Glee Club have noticed - that you're hanging out with a boy." Rachel had such a strange manner of speaking - it was almost detached, in a way, as though she were listing off facts rather than being involved in a conversation.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Do go on, please." She drawled, shifting her grip on the bag. "It's not like I have plans."

"Ah, of course - with your boyfriend, I assume." Rachel didn't say it as a question, instead mustering up a tentative smile before ploughing onwards. "Well, I shall make it short, then. We are just concerned about your... habits. Santana saw you smoking with this male friend of yours, and we can all smell it on you."

Quinn maintained a detached expression, causing Rachel to stumble over her words.

"W-well, really, I just wanted to ask if you'd stop. You have... such a lovely voice, Quinn. And you know we're all happy to have you back with us, it would be a shame to ruin that with a dirty habit like smoking." When she finished, Rachel gave herself a tiny, self-satisfied nod.

_Mental gold star, most likely._ Quinn though to herself, straight faced. "Thanks for the concern, Rachel, but I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself." And with that she turned about-face and made straight for the parking lot.

"Alright." Rachel said, voice disrupted by Quinn's sharp footsteps. "I'll see you tomorrow!" She called out. Quinn couldn't tell whether Rachel was saying so out of awkwardness, or because she was keeping up this pretense of them being friends. Whatever it was, Quinn didn't care. She didn't need Rachel's friendship.

**–––**

Matthew wasn't happy about being kept waiting.

"Where were you?" He asked, voice tense as he finished another cigarette. The next one was lit between his lips within seconds.

Quinn sighed, taking a long drag from her own smoke. "Rachel wanted to talk." Matthew hadn't asked her about her day yet. Quinn was already missing it, the open forum in which she could discuss all her feelings without fear.

"You don't like Rachel." Matthew said, taking a sharp left. Quinn grabbed a hold of the door handle to steady herself.

Quinn rolled her eyes again in memory of the incident. She stared at the cigarette held delicately between her fingers and took another draw, relishing the feeling. "No, I don't, but she won't be-"

Matthew, however, cut her off. "- So why would you be talking to her?" He snapped, pulling into a driveway. Quinn recognised it as his home - rented, and possibly shared with one of the other guys in his band? She wasn't sure - they didn't talk about him so much.

Mouth open to respond again, Matthew spoke over her. "Are you sure it wasn't one of those boys?"

Quinn laughed. _That_ was what he was worried about? Didn't Matthew know how much she needed him - how terrible her life had been before?

Evidently not. His scowl deepened at the laugh, and before Quinn had a chance to blink he'd pulled his hand back and slapped it across her face. Her head snapped to the side, and Quinn couldn't find words. It was shock. For several long moments, there was no pain, just awe. She raised one hand to her cheek, the bare remains of her cigarette falling to her lap with the movement.

Tears watered in her eyes, but Matthew looked unrepentant. "I treat you like a fucking princess, you know that?" He snapped. Quinn nodded, numb, feeling the leaden taste of blood settle in her mouth. "I swear, if you're off with one of those _fucking _guys." He didn't finish his sentence, instead slamming his fists into the steering wheel. The horn blared.

Quinn sat in the seat, staring at her boyfriend, not sure how to react. Eventually he turned back to her, mouth set in a tight line. "Go inside and get cleaned up, you look like shit." Matthew got out first, slamming the door in his wake.

With shaking hands, Quinn picked up her bag and followed him into the house.

**–****–****–**

Quinn had cleaned the blood off, still quivering. Tears made her eyes glassy, but they never fell. Quinn made sure of that. She'd suppressed tears in worse situations.

Instead she did her business, reapplied her makeup, and left the bathroom looking like the usual, infallible Quinn Fabray - albeit with a swollen lip.

Matthew pulled her into a tight embrace. Quinn flinched, but eventually relaxed. They stood in the hall for a half hour as Matthew apologised. "I love you, baby." He mumbled straight into her ear. "I don't know what I'd have done if you left me, that's all."

Quinn nodded - she had no words.

**–––**

School went as normal. Santana eyed up her lip, but Quinn sent her a sharp look. The Latina had to stop Brittany from commenting on it, dragging the girl to the bathroom for a discussion. Or something more. Probably something more.

Quinn made a point of going to Glee smelling of smoke, ignoring the reproachful look Mr Schue cast at her way. Rachel stared at her once she sat down, and Quinn could feel those eyes boring into the back of her head the whole time. Instead she kept her chin up, shaking her hair from her face, oozing confidence.

Matthew loved her. Quinn Fabray was unstoppable.

**–––**

After school, Matthew took her back to his place. "I have something for you." He said, and led her by the hand through to his room. Quinn kept her eyes closed, resisting the urge to peek.

"Open them." He whispered in her ear, and she did.

The bed was coated in rose petals - probably plastic, Matthew didn't make much money, but it was the thought that counted - and candles littered his bedside tables. Quinn's mouth fell open, about to say something, but Matthew's tongue got there first.

They had sex late on a Tuesday afternoon. It was as romantic as Quinn had come to see the act as.

Quinn spent the night, tangled up in Matthew's limbs, skin on skin.

**–––**

_I'm going to be late today. I have to practice for sectionals. Love you. xx_

Quinn stared down at her phone as the message sent, hoping to lose herself in the little animated envelope and tune out Rachel Berry's incessant jabbering.

"Quinn."

It didn't work.

Quinn heaved a sigh. "_Yes?_" She asked, trying to keep her voice as kind as possible. It didn't exactly work.

"As I was saying whilst you were _clearly_ not paying attention, we're planning a duet." Rachel said, evidently pleased to be back in the limelight. "Noah made the suggestion that you two practice together - your vocals compliment one another nicely. What do you think?"

Quinn thought she should be off with her boyfriend, but settled with shrugging her shoulders. She cast a look to her side. Santana and Brittany were off stretching, and Mike had taken a few other clubbers off to practice dance moves. "Fine." Quinn said at last, shifting to sit beside Puck.

Rachel had picked out a song that suited their styles - some old thing from the eighties that Quinn didn't care for. She went through the motions, mind focused on her phone. It sat heavy in her pocket, but never once vibrated. Maybe Matthew was just busy?

Although it dragged on forever, they did eventually finish. Rachel clapped like an excited schoolgirl who just got an award, praising her vocal range - "despite the obvious mistreatment your vocal chords and lungs have experienced" were her exact words. Quinn opened her mouth to tear the girl apart, but decided against it. She had better places to be.

Puck escorted her to the car park. They made strained conversation about Beth. "We could still be there for her." He said once they'd reached the asphalt, laying a hand on her shoulder. Quinn shied away. "We could be the parents Beth needs."

Quinn's eyes darted to the side, catching sight of Matthew's car idling. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Not now, okay?" Was all she said, all but running to the car.

**–––**

Matthew wasn't happy. Quinn had expected that.

The punch wasn't as surprising as the slap had been. They were in his bedroom, and though it took her breath away, Quinn deserved it. "I'm sorry." She managed, sucking in a sharp breath. When he kicked her in the stomach, Quinn apologised again. It came out like a mantra, a litany of sorry.

This time he didn't hit her face. Just her body, where no one would see. Quinn smiled despite her welling tears. He cared enough to not want anyone to worry. It was her own fault for letting Puck touch her. That man only bought her trouble. Quinn didn't need him to make her perfect family. She'd get Beth back and her and Matthew would live happily ever after.

Quinn didn't know how long she'd spent on the floor before Matthew curled up behind her, spooning her sore body.

**–––**

"Is something wrong, Quinn?" Rachel's voice was low, conspiratorial. Everyone else was watching Mike and Brittany demonstrate their planned dance for sectionals.

Quinn hadn't slept well the night before, and her body ached - but it wasn't with the kind of pain that hurt. It was the kind of pain that reminded her, constantly, that someone _loved_ her. No one else had loved her like that. Her father wanted nothing more to do with her, and her mother spent most of her time associating with God than her own daughter. "Nothing, Berry." Quinn snapped, not even able to enjoy the impressive back flip Brittany pulled off.

"You've been sitting very stiff all day, Quinn. Perhaps you've hurt yourself in Cheerio's practice?" Rachel attempted again, settling one hand on Quinn's wrist.

The blonde snatched her hand back. "Perhaps, Rachel. Or perhaps you should just keep your ugly nose in your _own_ _damned business._" Quinn snapped, sliding her chair away from the brunette girl. A few stray glances fell on them, but no one commented.

**–––**

Rachel continued to harass Quinn in the halls. It didn't matter what the topic was - her smoking or her apparently 'off' movements - the girl was always there. It drove Quinn mad. She did not need a babysitter. She did not need Rachel Berry to be looking out for her well being. Quinn was doing just fine. Maybe Matthew showed his love in weird ways - Quinn wasn't complaining. Each bruise was a mark of his love, and if Quinn could keep them forever she would. He told her that he loved her more than the other guys had - more than Finn, Puck and Sam combined.

Quinn was happy, and Rachel just wanted to ruin it.

She reached her boiling point after Cheerio's practice when Rachel was waiting for her on the bleachers. "You showed great form on top of the pyramid, Quinn." She commented, falling into step beside Quinn, who was trying her best to _avoid_ the girl.

"Go away, Rachel." Quinn said, not bothering with any thanks - she knew she'd been great up there anywhere. Matthew didn't often come on grounds, but he'd seen her at a few games and had praised her performance. _"You're beautiful up there." _Rachel's comment paled into comparison to that.

"I was just wondering why you'd continue to damage your body when you have such amazing athleticism and vocal talent, though it really is nothing in comparison to my own." Rachel rattled off, as she usually did, practically stalking Quinn.

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks, turning around. "You know what, Berry? It's not all about you." She said, turning and now advancing on the smaller girl. "Every time I go into Glee it's like the fucking Rachel Berry hour, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you thinking you know best, and I'm sick of you telling me it constantly." Quinn growled, malice on every word. She stared right down into Rachel's eyes, bearing down on her. "So you leave me alone. You go off with Finn who can't even last a minute, and you enjoy your life. Because I've got someone who _loves_ me, and you'll never have that." Quinn's voice dropped dangerously low as Coach Sylvester walked past them. "_Never._"

Quinn turned to stalk away, craving a cigarette and someone to vent to. Matthew would be waiting.

"Finn and I broke up." Rachel said. Quinn stopped again, this time not turning around. "I guess you were too consumed with yourself and your boyfriend to notice." Her voice was higher, carrying across the now-empty football field to Quinn's ears. "I hope you're happy, Quinn. I just wanted to be friends."

Quinn felt her mouth go dry, though she couldn't explain it. By the time she'd turned around, some false sympathies prepared on her tongue, Rachel had disappeared.

With a sigh, Quinn set off once more for the car.

**–––**

They fell into a routine together. Matthew would listen to Quinn in the car whilst they rode home, and once they were in the door she was silent. It was a fair trade. Quinn took those precious minutes to get everything off her chest, and then it was Matthew's time.

He was possessive. Quinn loved it. He'd bite her body, marking every inch of her skin as his own. Each purple bruise was like Matthew had written his love across her. He'd pull her nipples, making her cry out his name, twisting them in his calloused fingers. He'd fuck her, hard and fast and dry, Quinn's hands twisted in the sheets.

"I love you." He'd say in the aftermath. Matthew would place a kiss on her neck, chest, thigh, and then get up to clean off. Quinn didn't move. He liked her to stay. _"I like to see what's mine."_ Matthew had told her the one time Quinn had gone to clean up. Her heart had swelled. She stayed in bed, covered in sweat and saliva and blood.

**–––**

Quinn felt inclined to talk to Rachel after their incident on the football field. Of all the times for Rachel to listen to her requests, though, it was that one there. The diva avoided her like the plague now, and Quinn acted as if everything was perfect in her world.

And wasn't it? Rachel was no longer harassing her, ghosting her every step, and she had the most loving boyfriend in the world.

Life _was_ perfect.

The only time Rachel spoke to her after that was about her duet with Puck. They still had some more work to do on it - Quinn sometimes struggled to hit the high notes. Rachel insisted that she be there to ensure they pulled it off well. Quinn had managed a ghost of a smile at that, agreeing to meet both Rachel and Puck in the auditorium after school.

She texted Matthew again, informing him of her plans for that afternoon. Unlike the last time, he replied within seconds.

_Don't do that to me babe. _

Quinn bit her lip, but eventually texted back a response.

_I'm sorry, I have to. Just this once._

"Quinn, no phones in practice, please."

Quinn looked up, a sudden fear in her eyes. But she reluctantly nodded. She turned her phone off, personally knowing that one more message and he would break her. Quinn couldn't hold off that long. She wasn't as strong as she let everyone believe. Even as her phone sat there, screen blank, her heart twisted.

Instead of focusing on the pain, she threw her heart into the practice. She sang as well as she could, hoping Rachel would be pleased with the results and let them leave early. Matthew would be waiting for her, without even knowing what time her practice ended. The longer she kept him waiting, the madder he'd be

"That was perfect, Quinn!" Rachel beamed, for the first time since they'd fought.

Now that Quinn had been looking, she'd noticed the breakdown of the power Glee couple in the school. Finn had thrown himself right into football, and Quinn had noticed the team _actually_ doing pretty good. Rachel, on the other hand, dedicated herself more to Glee. They had banners around the school - Quinn didn't look and see _what_ Rachel was promoting, but she'd clearly hand drawn each and every one of them. They sat apart in Glee - Rachel on Quinn's side, and Finn up top with Puck and Mike.

Quinn almost felt guilty she'd missed that, but then reminded herself she didn't care.

Puck had offered to take Rachel home, and so the trio left the school together. Matthew stood outside his car, a halo of smoke forming around his head.

"Cya later, Quinn." Puck said, and Rachel gave her own farewell. Quinn raised one hand to them, but said nothing, her whole being trained on getting to Matthew's side.

He came over to meet her, striking her with a fist.

Quinn didn't even have a chance to react. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Matthew barked.

The gravel bit into her palms as Matthew rested a foot on her back, pressing her body down. "You don't turn your fucking phone off on me, you goddamn _bitch_. After everything I did for you." Quinn's cheek was pressed against the pavement, and she was unable to speak.

There was nothing she could do. She deserved this. As soon as she'd turned her phone off, she'd known it was a bad idea. _Damn_ Rachel for ruining things for her again. Was it because Finn had left her that she had to try and ruin her and Matthew?

Well, Quinn knew that Matthew loved her.

He crouched down beside her, pulling on his cigarette until it glowed. "You fucking _bitch_." He said, pressing the end of his cigarette against the bare flesh of Quinn's shoulder. She cried out, but something drowned out her voice.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Quinn looked up to see Puck running across the car park, Rachel following on his heels. "Please, don't!" Quinn yelled, struggling to sit up again, shoulder stinging.

"This is none of your fucking business." Matthew yelled, kicking Quinn back down again. "Get in the fucking car and don't move." Was all he said to her before Puck was on him.

Quinn pulled herself together as best she could. Puck had Matthew up against the side of his car. There were punches thrown from both sides. She could hear Rachel yelling something, but it only made up the buzzing in her mind. Quinn took a few deep breaths, ignoring her shaking hands as she went around the car to the passenger side. A small bear sat on the seat, waiting for her.

Quinn didn't know if she'd been crying already, or had just started when she saw that, but she couldn't just sit down. "Get _off_ him!" She cried, running back around the car and straight into the fighting boys.

Rachel grabbed her hand second before she was in their midst, pulling Quinn back with all her might. "Quinn, what are you doing?" She cried, wrapping her arms tight around Quinn's waist. Some of the boys on the football team had been practicing plays and noticed the drama and were now approaching, Coach Beiste blowing sharply on her whistle.

_Oh God._ This was all going wrong.

Quinn struggled weakly against Rachel's grip, watching as Puck hooked Matthew in the jaw. In her own mouth Quinn could taste blood, an injury mirroring her boyfriends own. "Rachel, let me go." Quinn begged, unable to do anything as Matthew was pinned to the ground. Beiste was desperately trying to get between the two boys whilst the overeager jocks involved themselves in anyway they could.

Soon the car park was full of what teachers remained in the school.

Quinn gave up, sliding to her knees. She placed her hands on the ground, feeling the grit press against the skin. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it was Matthew still holding her there. But it wasn't. "Quinn, come on, please get up." Rachel was pleading in her ear, one arm still wrapped tight around Quinn's waist.

"He loves me." Quinn answered brokenly, curling her fingers against the ground. "You just don't get it."

**–––**

Quinn had been made to speak. Mr Schuester had bought Miss Pillsbury into everything, and Quinn was forced to sit there as she was spoken to about abuse. "Where is he?" Quinn asked, eyes trained on the varnished top of her desk. Rachel held her hand.

"Ah, he's been taken into custody by the police." Miss Pillsbury said, delicate with her words as always. "If you want, we can over the procedure for pressing charges, and we can have a restraining order issued."

Quinn shook her head. "I just want to go home" She mumbled, brushing her tongue against the inside of her mouth.

The taste reminded her of him.

Of love.

**–––**

**author's notes: **a two (okay possibly three) part faberry fic. never written them before, so characterisation comments are appreciated. this is an au following the start of season three.


	2. part two

_**life goes on, it gets so heavy**_

_**the wheel breaks the butterfly**_

_**every tear a waterfall**_

_**in the night, the stormy night, she'll close her eyes**_

_**in the night, the stormy night, away she'd fly**_

Puck drove her home that night after Miss Pillsbury's questions had gone unanswered. He promised he wouldn't tell, and he kissed her forehead in a brotherly way. There was no love there. "If you need anything," Puck said, moving to grab her hand. Quinn pulled back, "_anything_, just call me." He carried on, undeterred by the movement.

Quinn nodded and went inside. Her mum didn't care about her - Quinn could come and go and she'd be none the wiser. God was her father now, and he took up all her mother's time. Quinn was glad for that today. Today, she could slip upstairs, unnoticed, and collapse on the bed.

She could bury her face in the pillow and cry, as if her body was wringing itself dry, but the tears kept coming.

**–****–****–**

Quinn went to school the next day. She couldn't show fault in her exterior. Rachel and Puck, they knew - the teachers knew. But Quinn Fabray would not allow anyone else to see her weakness.

She held her breath to steady her hand, drawing a thin line across her eyelid, framing her red-rimmed eyes. Concealer was slathered beneath her eyes, covering up the dark circles. Around her mouth it covered the bruising, but not the swelling. There was a small red line in her gum, a cut, but it had since stopped bleeding. Quinn didn't smile too broadly anyway, no one would notice.

In front of the mirror she stood, running gravel-burnt hands down the front of her Cheerio's uniform.

**–****–****–**

As she had thought, no one noticed.

Quinn was happy. She told herself she was happy, in between the sympathetic glances she caught from Rachel. The brunette hovered around her, worse now than she had been when Quinn was smoking. Technically she hadn't quit the habit, but she wasn't in a position to buy more - not without Matthew - and it wasn't that big a concern for her.

Santana gave her odd looks - head tilted to the side, and a faint smile across her lips - but she didn't comment on anything. They spoke about normal Cheerio business - about practice, about who in the school needed to learn their place, about Glee club.

"Man, Rachel is all over you like a _leech_." Santana noted, twisting a chunk of hair tight around her finger. Brittany was pushing her lunch across her plate, spearing her tots as they rolled around.

Quinn didn't know what to say. She looked up, meeting Santana's eyes, which were focused over her shoulder. Quinn turned around the catch Rachel standing a few metres behind her, frown evident. Their eyes met, and Rachel raised a hand, managing a tight smile before disappearing completely.

"What's all that about, Q?" Santana pressed, resting one elbow on the hard metal tables and cradling her cheek in an open palm.

Quinn shook her head, snorting, but her heart wasn't in it. "I don't know, she's probably trying to get me to help her with her Finn problem or something." The blonde mumbled, laying her hand on the table and drawing patterns along the grazes there.

"What happened to your hands?" Brittany asked, attention drawn away from destroying her food with a plastic fork.

Quinn almost jumped. Instead she shoved her hand under the table, hiding it from view. "I fell in the car park yesterday. Puck was taking me home." She covered, speech coming quicker than normal.

Brittany's eyes focused on her with a look that belied her 'dumb blonde' reputation. Santana just laughed, reaching over to take Brittany's hand in her own, "Puck, huh? Got a thing for his baby mumma again?"

Things felt normal again.

Quinn pressed down the sudden longing she'd felt when Brittany pressed her for answers.

She missed talking to someone about her problems. She missed talking to Matthew.

**–****–****–**

Every afternoon, Quinn took her time packing up. She'd run chores for the teachers, stay late to help Coach Sylvester clean up... whatever she could to avoid going out into the parking lot. Quinn knew that once she got there, there'd be no car waiting for her. No willing ear to listen, no gift waiting on the seat. Quinn could recall the bear she'd seen there. Where was it now? Had Matthew kept it, or thrown it out?

Was he even going to come back?

Quinn sat on the asphalt, out of the way of any cars. She felt like a lost kid. Every time a car like this passed by, same colour and shape, her heart would leap into her throat, and then fall back down again.

Matthew wasn't going to come.

No matter how long she sat there, even after the football practice had finished, no one was coming.

Quinn reluctantly got to her feet and started the long walk home.

**–****–****–**

No one at Glee said anything to her, but Quinn got the distinct feeling they were all minding their words.

"Quinn." Mr Schue said, addressing her for the first time since he'd tried to comfort her after everything that happened with Matthew. She looked up, eyes tired and lidded. "Would you like to show the class what you and Puck have been practicing for sectionals?"

Her automatic reaction was to shake her head, but the teacher had his eyes focused sharply on her. Quinn sighed heavily, ensuring everyone heard it, before getting to her feet. Puck followed her up, guitar slung around his shoulders.

Thankfully, he did all the talking. Quinn just had to stand there and suffer through the ridiculous jokes Puck and Finn shared about the deeper meaning behind their song choice. "It was mostly Rachel's choice. Me and Quinn just killed it with our stunning voices, hey?" He joked, nudging her side with an elbow, already laughing when Quinn jumped back.

Her eyes widened, and her breath stuttered. For a second, her heart stopped beating. A look passed over Puck's face, a sudden revelation of what he'd done. "Oh, shit, Quinn." Puck said, voice low - he'd promised to keep what had happened secret, and he was trying.

Quinn wrapped her arms protectively around her body, talking loudly over his apologies. "Let's just get to the song." She all but snapped, keeping a good metre between her and Puck at all times.

Puck nodded once in agreement, then again, firmer, to himself. His fingers ran over the strings of the guitar before starting the opening riff for _Run to Paradise_. Quinn didn't dance, instead hugging herself tight - the same way Matthew used to.

_"You don't mind if I abuse myself, so I can hold my head up." _Quinn's voice carried through the room as she sang, a power behind it that was never there before - Rachel had told her to throw her voice, and if doing so got her out of Glee sooner, Quinn would do it.

She sang the lyrics with such disinterest that she didn't notice Rachel's jaw tighten.

A couple times through the song Puck messed up the chords, and his voice was distracted. By the end of the song, Quinn had released her body, swaying slightly side to side, eyes trained on the floor. The rest of the club members applauded, and Mr Schue stood up, beaming. "That was great, guys." He said, patting Puck on the back but catching himself before he did the same to Quinn.

Quinn hurried back to her seat, Rachel getting up in her stead. "I told you that they were both _perfect_ for the song." During Rachel's droning, Quinn was able to tune out.

**–****–****–**

No one would love her like he did.

Miss Pillsbury had tried again and again to get her to talk to her about the problem, but Quinn avoided her. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted Matthew back. She'd hurt for what had happened, but she needed it - she needed to feel that loving sting again. The burn on her shoulder remained when the other bruises healed, an almost-perfect circle. It was small and easy to conceal, but when she was alone Quinn would run her hand over the injured skin.

She thought about hurting herself.

Who would notice? Quinn had hidden so much for so long that a few cuts would be nothing... but it wasn't the same.

It wasn't his hand hurting her. Quinn didn't even love herself like he did.

_I'm sorry babe. I love you. xx_

Quinn texted him, one hand holding her phone whilst the other covered up her cigarette burn. It was the one piece of him she really had left. All the presents meant nothing against this, and all the other bruises had yellowed and faded.

It was just this memory of them - the burning love they'd had, the smoke they'd shared between sealed lips.

Quinn cried all night, but he never replied.

**–****–****–**

The next day at school they were meant to be putting finishing touches on their sectionals routine. She'd made a point of not touching anybody - no one would touch her again, they couldn't do it _right_ - but now she had to dance with Puck. It was an upbeat routine, passionate and youthful. Quinn was expected to dance around and even up _on_ Puck at some points. Earlier the man had had no issue with it - had made offhanded jokes about it all the time, in fact - but now he looked cautious.

Quinn had a headache, and she just wanted to go home. They'd had Cheerio's practice during lunch in preparation for the game they had that night. It was like all the clubs in school had decided they needed to practice on this one day. She was hungry and sad and lonely, _damn it_. Quinn wanted to go home and sleep, but that wasn't happening. There was still the game that night. She'd have enough time to go home and get changed before she had to get back to school and pretend that she cared about their useless football team.

This time Puck was not the only one playing instruments - they'd gotten the band into the auditorium. They'd even gotten costumes on, loose mock-ups of what they'd be wearing at the actual event.

All the others waited off to the side of the stage whilst Quinn and Puck started off the song.

She went through the motions. She danced as she should, singing loud enough to satisfy Mr Schue. As much as she didn't want to be there, Quinn knew what had to be done. She had to do everything right, and then she'd be able to leave. If she didn't put her whole into it, they'd be rehearsing all afternoon - or worse, she'd get those sympathetic looks and be sent home.

Quinn hated sympathy.

She already felt sorry enough about her miserable life, she didn't want anyone else showing her pity. Quinn was strong. She didn't need someone to pat her on the back and tell her everything would be okay - not unless it was Matthew.

At some point, Puck had given his guitar away and all the other Glee club members had come out and started dancing with them. Quinn hadn't noticed - she'd memorised the song and moves to the point where her mind didn't need to be there for her to react.

Unfortunately that lead her into a close dance with Puck. Quinn shuddered when his hand closed around her waist, light but still there. It was a simple few steps, and then Puck dipped her body low.

Quin snapped.

As soon as she was hanging back, entire weight resting in Puck's arms, she lurched forward. Her arms struggled to grab hold of the fabric of his shirt and pull herself upright. She grasped one fist in Puck's sleeve, yanking on it to steady herself. Instead of regaining her footing, the thin fabric tore and Quinn fell through Puck's arms and to the floor.

The music cut off with an odd screech.

"Fuck, Quinn." Puck said, a curse Mr Schue was apparently willing to overlook this once. "What happened?" He asked, pulling at the ruined garment hanging off his body.

Quinn had pushed herself up with her hands, climbing shakily to her knees, facing the ground. Her eyes were wide and wild, breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The grazes on her hands had long since healed, but for a second it felt like she was still on the ground in the parking lot. The smooth wooden surface of the stage was coarse against her skin, and the hand on her shoulder felt like that foot, driving her down. Everyone was talking, shouting, yelling, and it was driving Quinn insane.

They were all talking about her whilst she was down.

"Shut up." Quinn shrieked to the ground, throwing one hand out to push away the ones crowding her body. "Just leave me _alone!_" She didn't bother with any of her things, leaving it all behind as she sprinted from the room. Her legs felt flimsy and weak but they carried her well down the long deserted halls of the school.

She came to a halt on the steps leading out of McKinley high. Quinn was fit, and the run wasn't what left her panting. It was the culmination of everything - they were all talking about her, they didn't care, they just wanted to keep her unhappy.

She just wanted Matthew back.

The parking lot was practically empty - she recognised some of the cars of the members of Glee and the teachers, but not the one she was looking for.

Quinn sunk down onto the steps, leaning her body against the brick banister. Her feet were flat on the step below her body, and Quinn buried her face into her knees. What was the point of a reputation any more? They'd clearly been waiting for this moment - waiting for Quinn Fabray to break so that they could crowd her body and talk and just watch her suffer.

Her shoulders shuddered, but Quinn was adamant not to shed any tears.

She wouldn't let them have that victory.

"Quinn?"

She didn't know how long she'd been on that step, lost in her thoughts - her fears and her hate. "Go away." Quinn said, voice muffled by her legs.

Something brushed against her side and Quinn shifted away, pressed hard up against the wall now. "I bought you your things. You left them behind in Glee." Rachel said, voice quiet and unassuming.

Quinn lifted her head to face Rachel, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Thanks." She said, taking the heavy bag off of the smaller girl. All her Cheerio's stuff. She'd have to be down on the field in an hour or two to cheer, but Quinn didn't even want to move off the step at that moment.

Rachel said nothing, and so they both sat on the steps in silence.

**–****–****–**

Quinn was intent on maintaining her image, and had gone to the next Glee session as if nothing was wrong. No one knew how to react, and Quinn was glad. If they were clueless, that meant she was in control. She'd taken the upper hand back again.

No one spoke to her all lesson. Rachel shifted her chair closer to Quinn's side, but she didn't press. Quinn liked that about Rachel. She could be a nosy bitch when she wanted to, but sometimes she got it through her head that Quinn didn't _want_ to talk. It was at times like those that Quinn didn't hate Rachel. She liked Rachel. She didn't ask questions.

Halfway through Glee, Quinn's phone vibrated in her pocket.

_I'll see you after school babe._

For the rest of the lesson, Quinn kept checking and rechecking the message - just to make sure it was from the right number, that the caller ID hadn't mixed it up.

Matthew had texted her.

_Okay._

Quinn couldn't think of much more to say, but she was finally happy again.

**–****–****–**

"Who was that?" Rachel asked conversationally once Glee was over. Quinn was trying to escape, and this _had_ to be the time Rachel wanted a chat.

"Who's who?" Quinn asked, distracted, wringing the strap of her duffel between her hands. She couldn't help the smile on her lips, no longer a sadistic mockery of a happy gesture but something _real_.

Rachel frowned. "He texted you, didn't he?" Rachel said, not bothering to hide her disapproval.

"What's it to you?" Quinn bit back, head held high. She'd have her boyfriend back soon, she'd have his love printed all over her body, she'd feel wanted again - whole and complete.

Rachel sighed, and reached out one hand, brushing down the back of Quinn's upper arm. The blonde girl flinched, turning her sharp eyes on her. "Just... Quinn, you shouldn't be doing this." Rachel said, frown lines heavy on her forehead. "You're better than that."

"He loves me." Quinn answered, confidence coating every word.

"That's not love, Quinn." Rachel had dropped her head, looking up at Quinn through her bangs.

Stamping a foot on the ground, Quinn turned around fully to face Rachel. "What do _you_ know about love?" She spat, grasping her bag tighter and storming off down the hall.

"You're better than that, Quinn." Rachel called at her retreating form. "You're beautiful. Don't let anyone take that from you."

Quinn wasn't listening.

**–****–****–**

Quinn should've listened.

She remembered Rachel's address from that one time they had a party there. It was in the same neighbourhood as Matthew's rental. It was easily within walking distance.

"_You ugly fucking bitch." Slap. "You think you can get me fucking arrested? Lock me up, and I'll fucking kill you. Just think about it." Kick, punch, spit._

Quinn didn't want to give him that victory. She didn't want to let him win. But she had. She'd sobbed on the floor, whimpering as he let out his anger on her body. All she'd wanted was for him to listen - she'd wanted to talk to him in his car, a haze of smoke between them, like old times. Instead he'd sped back to his house. Quinn had been fine with that, too - he deserved it. For what she'd put him through, _she_ deserved it.

But the whole time, the only thing Quinn could think of was Rachel.

"_You're beautiful. Don't let anyone take that from you."_

She pulled her Cheerio's jacket around tighter around her shaking body as she cut through an alley.

Rachel's place, she reasoned, was closer. Quinn could go there and be safe. Santana lived on the other side of town, and Quinn didn't feel right bothering Brittany's family. The blonde was rarely there any more anyway. Rachel was close, and Rachel could help. Rachel wouldn't tell anyone.

"_You're disgusting, no wonder the others all left your ass."_

"_I'm not." Quinn has answered, feeble, eyes scrunched shut. "I'm not disgusting."_

"_Don't talk back, you bitch." _

"_I'm beautiful." Quinn yelled, pressing her hands over her eyes as he lay into her again._

If anyone found her like this, Quinn knew that they'd call the police or something. She looked like a wreck. Luckily, the path to Rachel's house was not entirely lit up. Quinn darted between shadows, hood pulled down over her lowered head.

She stood in the street, eyeing up the house. This was it. Definitely. All she needed now was the confidence to knock.

The first time she raised her fist to the door, it was unheard. Her hands shook, and the knock was faint. She knocked again, harder, the sound resonating off the hard wood. There was no response for a while, and Quinn had her fist up to knock again when the door pulled open.

Rachel stood in the doorway, back-lit by the lights in her hall. Quinn heard her gasp. "Oh my God, _Quinn_." And then she was pulled into a tight hug. Quinn flinched, but didn't pull away.

She didn't respond physically, either. "Earlier today." Her voice broke, and she swallowed, blood and saliva dense in her mouth. "You... you said I was beautiful." Quinn managed to squeeze out, allowing her body to be pulled into the warm house.

"You are beautiful, Quinn." Rachel said, pulling out of the hug to hold Quinn at arms length. "You're the prettiest girl in this town."

Quinn hadn't noticed she was crying until Rachel lay one hand on her cheek, brushing away at the tears with her thumb. A purpling hand-shaped bruise outlined Rachel's smaller hand where it sat. "We have to get you cleaned up, though."

Numb, Quinn nodded, and let Rachel take her hand.

**–****–****–**

**author's notes: **so this has become a massive beast, and will now be three parts. thanks for the support, and keep the reviews coming! :)


	3. part three

_**and so lying beneath those stormy skies,**_

_**she'd say "oh, i know the sun must set to rise."**_

_**this could be para, para, paradise.**_

"I know it's not much, I don't keep clothes out of my size." Rachel said, tentatively holding out a neatly folded pyjama set. "And I don't know if you - I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to..." She trailed off, a pair of equally tidy panties sitting atop the pile. "I just figured." Rachel finished with an encouraging smile as Quinn took the pile.

"Thank you." She manages, standing awkwardly in the centre of Rachel's en-suite bathroom. It's not much: a cramped shower, toilet, and basin, but it's clean. Immaculate. Everything has its place. The shampoo and conditioner are lined up side-by-side, and the body wash bottle is of the exact same size and colour. Probably intentional. "It's nice."

Rachel lights up a little at the praise. There are gold stars rimming the mirror - Quinn matches her smile with a bland smirk. "Thank you. You're free to use anything you like." She gestured wide at the matching bath products. "I'll be outside if you need help with anything, just call. And..." Rachel drops her eyes, scuffing the floorboards with her toe. "I'll get the first aid kit, okay? Did you want me to call anyone for you?"

There is nothing for Quinn to say. She nods to the first question, shakes her head to the second, and Rachel pulls the door shut behind her as she leaves.

The tap turns easily, and water flows from the faucet instantaneously. It heats up quickly, and Quinn has it set just a little hotter than normal. She strips out of her clothes, the fabric stained with blood in some places. Everything hurts - cuts and forming bruises litter her pale skin. Quinn avoids looking in the mirror, instead plunging her body under the warm spray.

The sting is good. It distracts Quinn from her thoughts. She's able to run the washcloth over her tender skin. Some cuts refuse to cease bleeding, and Quinn ignores them. The burn remains on her shoulder, healing slowly - picking at it had delayed that process. Quinn had done so on purpose. She'd wanted to keep it there. Once it had reminded her of her beauty and worth. Now it just made her nauseous.

The worst of her wounds is a long gash across her back. She'd fallen back onto the low, glass coffee table in the lounge. There was probably still shards embedded in her skin - Quinn didn't want to check. She didn't touch her back, knowing the pain that would flare up if she did.

Instead she cleaned what she could reach.

When she stepped out of the shower, she didn't feel any better. She didn't feel clean or refreshed. She still felt dirty.

–––

"Feeling better?" Quinn nodded just to keep Rachel happy. The girl had set out a complete first aid kit on her bed, neat and orderly. There was gauze and bandage and antiseptic creams, as well as a few items Quinn didn't know the purpose of - she just trusted in Rachel.

Right now, Rachel was the person helping her. Not her mother, not Finn, Puck, Sam, Matthew, Santana or Brittany. Rachel Berry, who she had tormented all through high school. Rachel Berry who she'd had slushied every morning after she'd noticed the girl's interest in her boyfriend. Rachel Berry who she'd laughed at and mocked at almost every Glee meeting without fail.

Rachel Berry who had pulled out the backless chair from her vanity, and was sitting Quinn down gently on it. "Where should I start?" Rachel asked, hands hovering over Quinn's skin - she didn't want to touch.

Quinn probably looked so bad no one would want to touch her. She dropped her head. "My back." She mumbled. It was the only place Rachel could really _do_ anything. The rest of the cuts were minor, and bandaging wouldn't help. Bruises just needed time to heal. They'd darken over the next day, then fade to a sickly yellow-green before disappearing entirely.

Quinn was an expert on bruises now.

"Alright. Should I just...?" Rachel mimicked picking up the back of Quinn's borrowed singlet. The blonde nodded, and she felt Rachel's gentle fingers on her back.

And then her gasp. "Oh, Quinn, what happened?" She asked, probably without thinking. "I... does it go all the way?"

Quinn could feel the horror in her tone - the disgust. "Yeah." Quinn breathed, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. It shouldn't matter what Rachel thought of her - on any other day, Quinn would care less. But right now, having pity from Rachel was like being kicked in the stomach. Quinn was the queen bee of the school, and here was this... this Glee _loser_ giving her sympathetic looks and helping her out.

She was crying again.

How far could one person fall? Would they keep kicking her down until she was nothing, just a part of the dirt?

And then there came guilt.

Here was Rachel, offering her a home - a safe haven. She was offering her clothes and a shower and a warm bed and _help_. And all Quinn could think of was how embarrassing it was to have someone like Rachel showing her charity?

"Quinn? Did I hurt you?" Rachel asked, yanking her fingers away as if Quinn's skin was on fire.

Quinn shook her head. "I'm sorry, Rachel." She mumbled, face pressed into her palms. "I'm so sorry."

This was Rachel Berry, not the Glee loser consoling her, but the girl who had tried to save her. The girl who had wanted to save her voice, her body, her beauty. The one girl who had told her she was beautiful. The one girl who had followed her from Glee, kept her things safe and delivered them back to her side.

Quinn's shoulders quivered. "Quinn, it's fine." Rachel was crouching in front of her now, fingers gently coaxing Quinn's chin up. "I don't know why you're apologising, but it's fine. If you let me help you now, we can go to bed, and everything will be fine in the morning - okay?" Her voice was calm and low, placating.

Though the tears didn't stop, Quinn nodded. She let Rachel lift the shirt off her body, ignoring the concerned gasps when the brunette saw the bite marks on her breasts reflected in the mirror. She tuned out, telling Rachel only what she needed to know. With skill Rachel checked over each cut with the tweezers, retrieving chunks of glass and setting them on a spare bandage by her side.

On the seat, Quinn was falling asleep. The pain was a background thing to her - white noise that she could easily ignore. "All done." Rachel said, laying the final, securing piece of tape over the bandage. Her hand trailed up to rest on Quinn's shoulder. "Bed time?" She tilted her head to the side in question.

"Yeah." Quinn breathed, blinking herself back to the present. "Please." She added as an afterthought. Rachel's smile widened.

"You can have my bed tonight. I'll take the spare bed, alright?" Rachel let her go, touch lingering feather-light over the cigarette burn for a moment too long. Then she was packing up the first aid kit, placing the bloodied shards of glass in the small bin by her desk, and grabbing her own pyjamas.

Quinn stood up, and was sure she wavered in place. She'd never felt so tired. Not only was she physically exhausted, but she was emotionally drained. "Please don't go." Quinn said, watching Rachel prepare to leave.

The brunette froze in place, mouth open but no words coming.

"I just... would rather not be alone." Quinn said, having long since given up on maintaining her image before Rachel.

The seconds stretched out before Rachel found the right words. "If you want to, Quinn, of course." She agreed. "I'll just go get changed." She stood there, awkwardly pointing at the tiny bathroom, before returning to herself and ducking behind the door.

Quinn crawled into bed. It was hard to find a comfortable position - every part of her body protested, no matter how she lay. The best way she found was on her side, facing the far wall of Rachel's room. There were images all over it - Broadway stars, scripts (Quinn didn't know if Rachel had written them herself or not, but would have to check in the morning), souvenir books from plays, and the pictures of them in Glee. There were group shots and candids, a collage with gold stars stuck all around them.

There was one picture towards the lower-left of the both of them. Quinn was in her Cheerios uniform, Rachel in whatever vintage piece she'd chosen to wear that day. Rachel had her arm up in the air, belting out the last few notes of a song Quinn couldn't quite remember. She herself was laughing, and her fingers were linked with Rachel's, held up high and proud.

The memory, not entirely specific, was nice. Quinn smiled sleepily, even as Rachel crawled into bed beside her. The brunette kept her distance - out of respect for Quinn's pride or her injuries, or both, she didn't know. Quinn reached out one hand, loosely resting it on one of Rachel's. She didn't catch the shocked look in the dark, but she felt Rachel's fingers curl around her own.

–––

When Quinn woke up, Rachel was already gone.

A sudden loneliness stirred in her core, and she pushed herself into an upright position.

"Good morning." Rachel smiled, sitting at the vanity, reading a novel. "You slept well." There was still a hint of caution in her expression, but it felt honest - friendly.

"Yeah." Quinn croaked, voice dry. Her back hurt more than it had last night. Everything did, in fact. Last night she'd been either fueled by adrenaline, or so exhausted she couldn't focus on anything. Now she felt better - awake, but hurt.

Rachel took a minute to finish her page, or chapter, before setting the book down. "I told my Dad's you'd be staying this weekend. Obviously you don't have to stay tonight, but... you're welcome to if you want." She stood up, stretching, in a lazy Saturday dress. It was something easy to wear, but comfortable. Not out to impress anyone. Quinn was still in borrowed pyjamas - her own clothes were... well, she would like to burn them if she were being completely honest.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rachel passed Quinn two small tablets and a glass of water.

Quinn took them, gratefully swallowing down the painkillers and then the water.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Rachel asked, and then checked her watch. "Or possibly lunch? Brunch?"

Quinn smiled lightly. "Whatever you want."

–––

They had to talk that afternoon. After their meal (they couldn't decide on what they'd call it, so a meal it was), Rachel's mood went from chipper to concerned. "I think we should call Miss Pillsbury." She said, watching Quinn intently for her reaction.

Quinn stiffened.

"_You think you can get me fucking arrested? Lock me up, and I'll fucking kill you. Just think about it." _

"No." She said, too fast, heart stuttering suddenly in her chest.

"Quinn." Rachel began, confusion knitting her brow down. "He _hurt_ you. We have to do something. Miss Pillsbury can help - since we're minors she can arrange these things. I'm sure you won't even have to appear in court, if that's what you're worried about."

It was evident Rachel had thought about this in great depth before bringing it up. Quinn shook her head. "He'll be mad." She said, weakly defecting to Matthew's will even after he was gone.

Rachel reached across the table, placing her hand on Quinn's. "So? That's what police are for. He won't hurt you any more." At that point, Rachel squeezed. "I won't let him hurt you."

Quinn's hand twitched, but she didn't move it. Instead she stared out the window at Rachel's manicured garden. "He said he'd kill me if he went to jail." Her answer was quiet, and Quinn closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore Rachel's surprised gasp.

"That's why we have to do something!" She said, standing up and lunging for her phone. "If he's threatening to _kill_ you, Quinn, you have to say something!" Already Rachel was flicking through contacts on her phone - Quinn wondered who she was looking for. Did she have teachers on that thing?

Even now, Quinn couldn't bring herself to go against Matthew's words. So, instead, she got up and left the room without saying something. In the background, she heard Rachel talking rapidly into the phone.

–––

Quinn didn't pay attention

Rachel kept casting her imploring looks across the table. She did what she had to - she signed the forms Miss Pillsbury put in front of her. Mr Schuester had come, too, though Quinn wasn't sure what for.

It took an hour or so for them to go through everything. Miss Pillsbury had promised her that she wouldn't have to go give evidence in the court - at worst, she'd be asked to record an anonymous testimony. He'd know it was her - Quinn could only hope that he'd plead guilty and there would be no trial.

It was a relief once they left.

Quinn could try and go on living - even if there was a hole there, big and gaping right in her chest where her heart used to be. In the bathroom she would still touch the bruises with reverence, silhouette encircled with gold stars.

Rachel tried to fill that hole with an entire night of musical dvds. Quinn couldn't bring herself to say no.

She fell asleep on Rachel's shoulder halfway through Chicago.

–––

The weekend was like a dream.

Rachel didn't stare at her bruises like everyone at school did. She didn't make sarcastic comments whilst she was within earshot. Rachel would make jokes and show her around her house excitedly, as if she hadn't had a friend over in years, whilst the Cheerio's ignored her.

Quinn wore her uniform but stood out anyway.

No amount of concealer in the world would hide all those bruises, not fully, and her back stung with almost every movement. Quinn couldn't practice that day, but the uniform was her safety net. It was meant to help her fit in, but it didn't.

As she always had, Quinn Fabray kept her head up. It was the only thing she could do. She'd come so far, she was not going to let this bring her down.

"Where were you this weekend?" Santana asked, appearing in front of Quinn with Brittany linked on her pinkie. Santana looked curious - Brittany more concerned.

Brittany gave a vague smile. "Yeah, we were gonna invite you over but you didn't reply to our texts."

Quinn had gotten them in the morning, but figured it was too late to respond. _"I charged your phone for you. We have the same brand so the charger worked. Didn't look, though, promise." Rachel said, offering up the small device with a proud look. _"I was out." Quinn said, concise.

"Yeah, but _where?_" Santana pressed, leaning against the lockers whilst Quinn gathered her Spanish supplies.

Quinn heaved a sigh. "I was at Rachel's place." She said, holding her books to her chest.

The pair didn't leave. "Why?" Santana and Brittany pressed, in sync.

Quinn tried to ignore them, she really did, but they sat together in Spanish. They'd all noticed the bruises on her arms - everyone in the damn school did, so why wouldn't they? Mr Schue rested a hand on her desk, the best way he could show sympathy without actually touching her. Quinn bristled at the gesture, but tried to smile at him.

"Come on, Q, tell us." Santana said once they'd started doing group work on Spanish verb conjugation.

Quinn doodled on the corner of her sheet. "I just had some problems. Rachel's house was closer than yours." _And you'd tell the whole damn school within minutes of me showing up_. Quinn didn't speak the last part, but it rested heavy on her mind. Santana would look out for her, she'd help, but she couldn't keep a secret to save her life - not unless the secret was Brittany-centric.

Brittany and Santana shared a knowing look. "Your arms?" Brittany asked in a stage whisper.

Quinn hummed an affirmative, then began her work.

–––

So the whole school came to find out.

Worse than them all theorising about what had happened behind her back was them all talking about her problems as if they actually cared. None of them did. They were glad to see Quinn Fabray knocked around a bit.

She didn't wear her Cheerio's uniform for the rest of the week.

She sat on the bleachers during practice, drawing in her notebook. She wasn't a good drawer, and there wasn't any specific subject - there were circles and swirls and small flowers. Most of it got scribbled out. Not good enough. Never good enough.

Nothing she did ever was.

"Hey, Quinn."

Quinn looked up at the voice that had become so familiar the past few days. "Hey." Her lips quirked once, but Quinn didn't have the energy to put up a smile. She knew Rachel didn't care.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, good-naturedly, sitting at Quinn's side.

Quinn sighed, then shrugged one shoulder. "Just drawing."

"What are you drawing?"

"Just stuff." Quinn was not being purposefully vague - she truly didn't have direction.

She felt as if she didn't have anything any more. She'd lost her boyfriend and her reputation. When she went back to practice, she'd still be top of the pyramid, but she didn't know if she could trust her weight in the hands of anyone else again. At Glee she'd be thrown into the midst of people who acted like they knew what it was like to be in her position, and wouldn't leave her alone. There'd be suggestions to get over it and offers to hang out and, worst of all, people who spoke about seeing domestic abuse on television or hearing someone they knew go through it and thought they were experts.

Quinn didn't even think of it as domestic abuse.

It made her feel like a victim.

Quinn wasn't a victim. She'd rise again. She just needed time.

"You're looking exceptionally pretty today, Quinn." Rachel said, a warm smile on her face.

Quinn looked up at her face. There was something about the way Rachel said her name - delicate, as if it was something to be kept safe, but not fragile.

–––

Quinn couldn't tell what Rachel was playing at. Throughout the coming week, she found the brunette approaching her mysteriously to compliment her and then leave. One day it was a text about how her hair looked, the next it was a note in math about that dress really bringing out her eyes. Was Rachel just doing this for her self-esteem? Quinn had to say, it was working, if only a little. After all the horror she'd put Rachel through, the brunette was still telling her she was pretty and lovely.

_Want to hang out tonight?_

It was the first message in so many days that _wasn't_ about Quinn's looks. It was so strange that Quinn actually had to read the message twice. They sat in Glee, though apart from each other - which was also coming to be a rarity these days.

_Sure. What time?_

Quinn replied with deft fingers whilst Mr Schuester discussed their new assignment.

_Nine, my house. I'll see you then._

Rachel's message held such certainty that Quinn felt she couldn't argue with the time or location.

–––

Her mother had noticed the bruises but believed that they were just from a rough Cheerio's practice. Now they had almost faded entirely. The cut on her back had scabbed over and was sensitive, but it was healing. The burn on her shoulder was nearly completely gone. Matthew had gotten a year for battery.

"_Even if he gets out early on good behaviour, there's still a restraining order to keep him from coming near you or your property." Miss Pillsbury said, satisfied, resting her hands on the paperwork._

Quinn didn't believe that a piece of paper would keep her safe, and there was always that fear that Matthew would be out there again. The only thing that offered her comfort was that Quinn would be out of Ohio and in college by the time that year was up. She hadn't decided where, yet, but far away was looking good.

Being free of Matthew was hard.

Quinn kept all the gifts he gave her. They sat at the foot of her bed, teddies and chocolates piled high. She didn't want to touch them - not even to throw them all out. Quinn just kept her eyes on the wall as she dressed, ignoring their presence entirely.

–––

She knocked on Rachel's door at five to nine.

Quinn hadn't seen Rachel's fathers around before, but tonight one of them opened the door. Quinn was taken off-guard. She licked her lips, a small smile growing. "Hi." Quinn said, not sure what else to say.

Rachel ran into view behind her dad, grasping a wall to stop herself. "Quinn!" She chimed, shoving past the man to reach her. "We're going out, we'll be back later!" She said, words coming so fast that both Quinn and her father looked stunned.

The door was shut before Quinn had a chance to say goodbye, or thank you, or _anything_ to Rachel's father.

"I've got something to show you." Rachel said, voice slowing only a little, taking Quinn's hand in her own and leading her down the street.

Quinn didn't pull away. She didn't know how she was meant to react. Rachel had taken her hand plenty of times the past few days - to lead her somewhere, to offer her comfort, and just... because. It was strange. Quinn went along with it, loathe to lose the one true friend she felt she'd made from the whole incident.

Even if Rachel's idea of friendship was extremely strange, Quinn didn't mind that.

She daydreamed on the walk, letting Rachel lead her by the hand out to a park by her house. It was long deserted when they arrived - the young children of Lima were already in bed. It was a nice enough place. The sand in the playground glowed white in the moonlight, the man-made lake a glassy mirror in the center of all the grass.

"We're here." Rachel said, waving her arms out to encompass the whole park in her action, expression suggested she expected Quinn to be impressed.

Quinn gave the whole place a blank stare. "Why are we here?" She asked, turning to face Rachel.

Apparently this was as far as her forethought extended. Rachel looked away, sheepish, and shrugged. "I just thought it was a pretty place to go. Don't you like it?"

"No, no, I do like it." Quinn said, holding up her one free hand in soothing gesture. "I'm just... confused."

Rachel huffed. "Well, it's such a pretty place. I thought maybe... I'd take you somewhere nice, and you'd remember how pretty you are." In the light, Rachel's tanned skin glowed a shade of grey - Quinn was sure she spotted a blush there, though.

Quinn pulled her hand away. "You're always talking about how pretty I am." The old Quinn would have been smug about this - the new Quinn, this broken and probably not yet put back together one, was confused. "Why? It's not like you're obligated to do so." It was confusing, and Quinn still couldn't quell the fear Rachel was setting her up for another fall.

She didn't know if she could get back up again from that.

"I'm doing it because I want to!" Rachel replied, obviously taking offense from the obligation comment. Quinn again held her hands up, suspicious of the way Rachel was acting. Sure, normally she was weird, but now she seemed to be overreacting at the smallest things. "I just... you used to look so happy, and I figured you were happy because people told you you were beautiful. Right?" Rachel was fidgeting with her now free hands, running them over and over each other.

That cleared nothing up. "You shouldn't just say things to make me happy, Rachel." Quinn said, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth.

"I _want_ to see you happy, Quinn." Rachel argued, hands falling now to her sides and clenching into fists. "If I have to say you're beautiful everyday for the rest of my life, I will."

Quinn laughed, the sound bubbling up the pale column of her throat. "What?" She smiled, but it was tinged with confusion.

"You don't get it!" Rachel said, throwing her hands up in the air and turning around.

Laughter ceased, and Quinn reached forward to place a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "What do you mean?" She asked, still smiling, unable to stop now that she'd started. It'd been so long since she smiled. It felt nice. "If you explain it to me, Rachel, I'll get it."

Rachel stopped, and all was silent. Quinn could hear their breathing, undisturbed in the dead night. "I want to tell you you're beautiful everyday of my life so that you'll smile." Rachel's shoulders dropped, and her head hung forward. "But if you don't want that, I'll tell you that you're pretty or you're smart, or you're an exceptional gymnast and cheerleader, or perhaps that your vocals are good - I mean, your range could obviously use some work and you might need to work on losing the breathy quality, but some people like that, I mean _I _like it..."

Quinn had started laughing again, and now she was pretty sure it was a defense mechanism - same as Rachel's rambling was. "Rachel, stop." Quinn instructed, the confused look in her eyes betraying the smile on her face. "What is this about?"

"I just..." Rachel turned around, refusing to lift her head. "I really want to see you smile." She practically whispered, sounding lost. "And if... if embarrassing myself in a park will make you smile like this, we can do it forever. If you want to." Despite the fact that she was speaking to the ground, Rachel was resolute.

Quinn's smile faded from her face, and understanding rose slowly to replace it. "You want to see me smile?" Quinn went carefully with her words, treating each one as if it were glass.

Rachel nodded. "When you like someone, you want to see them smile, right?" Rachel stopped, swallowed, and then reluctantly lifted her head.

Reaching out, Rachel took Quinn's hand in her own. She squeezed it, and there was a revelation. Quinn felt her heart skip a beat, a mixture of fear and excitement bubbling in the pit of her stomach. "Rachel?" She asked, certain that her face was starting to glow light pink beneath her foundation.

Rachel kissed her. It was brief and chaste. "Now smile." She commanded.

Quinn did.

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**author's notes:** there you have it, three parts, three days. this idea struck me and wouldn't let me go until i'd finished it. thank you so much for all the faves and reviews. please let me know what you think!


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